


You Make Me Sick

by cyndario



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, Attempt at Humor, Avvar Cullen, F/M, Female Character of Color, If you squint you'll see angst, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, but that last bit is the very end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndario/pseuds/cyndario
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All she wanted was an answer to her question.<br/>How on earth did she end up like this again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Sick

If anyone had told her six months ago that she'd be face down, ass up, her back proceeding to be _thoroughly_ blown out by some Avvar thane she would have challenged them to a duel for the slight on her honor.

 

And for good measure, she would have proceeded to curse them, their children, and any other future generations of their sad, _pathetic_ line in her mother's native Rivaini and her _abuelita's_ native Antivan. Maker's breath, she'd probably even curse them in Tevene.

 

No one would _dare_ tell Zamurrad Natalia Qaisera Jacqueline Trevelyan that she would be rutting like a Ferelden commoner under a _barbarian_.

 

She was a lady after all.

 

But here she was, her perfectly manicured hands gripping the rough fur pelts of his bed, her deep brown skin lined in a sheen of sweat. Her hair had escaped its perfectly coiffed bun, her midnight black curls plastered to her face and splayed across her back. Her breath left her in shallow puffs, testament to the force of his hips smacking against her backside, quickly ushering the air from her lungs like a harlot at Chantry mass.

 

She would not give him the satisfaction of crying out in ecstasy. Not after their screaming match turned into this. Not when she was still livid with him. _Especially_ not after he avoided her questions in the first place.

 

No matter how full or how deliciously _stretched_ she felt.

 

Not even when Cullen angled his hips just like... that.

 

She bit down on her lips, silencing the screams that threatened to rip through her lungs. This low life would not be her undoing. She needed to remember she was angry at him or else she'd be screaming his accursed name and his entire hold heard them.

 

Chuckling at her futile attempts to stay silent, Cullen smacked the plump flesh of her backside, her surprised moan barely being muffled by the furs between her teeth. The hand that had slapped her kneaded the skin softly, and Zamurrad couldn't keep her moans in check.

 

“ _Ay dios mio_ ….” Zamurrad breathed, and he smacked the other round globe of flesh, her cries growing louder. Cullen kneaded the abused skin again, his hips still pounding into her at that wonderful angle. The smile that danced across those pale lips grew into something predatory, like when a hunter has cornered his prey or when an opponent has given you an opening in a game of chess.

 

“You like that, lass? How about I give you a good thrashing--gods know you deserve it for earlier.  Would you come from that alone? Or shall I fuck you until you forget you’re a lady? Would you scream for me then?”

 

The vulgars things he whispered had her breath catch in her throat, and her inner walls fluttered as a shiver ran through her. Closing her eyes, she tried not to come apart too soon, but if she had to guess by the way her body responded to his fingers dancing across her skin or how he would press himself closer to lick and nibble on the skin of her shoulders she was going to fly away like a leaf in a hurricane.

 

Oh Maker, she couldn't take much more of this.

 

She refused to initially give voice to his mutterings, instead, she clutched her inner walls around him, his pace faltering in surprise. She reached back and grazed her nails gently across whatever part of him she could reach, raising the hairs on his paler skin. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, she licked her lips and began rolling her hips slowly, clenching her walls around him again and it was his turn for his breath to catch in his throat. The smirk that danced across his scarred lips fell away as he moaned, throwing his head back in ecstasy as she slowed their pace. His hips all but stopped moving, and for a moment she felt she was finally in control.

 

Smug bastard. He must be unused to someone setting the pace from _beneath_ him.

 

She would correct that error.

 

As he gripped her pliant skin, his hands unsure of themselves, she chuckled seductively. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, Zamurrad balanced on her forearms as she arched her spine deeper, continuing to grind her ample bottom on him in sinfully slow circles, his breath stuttering from her unexpected movement.

 

“Do you like that, _my thane_? How about I work myself on you, leave you begging for me? Would you scream for me then?”

 

Her voice was a hoarse whisper, her lust stealing the sound. When he did not answer her right away, her breathy laugh filled the tent, shocking him to his senses. Just as she began to quicken her pace chasing her own end, Cullen cursed under his breath.

 

He was almost tempted to let her take over, work herself on him until he couldn't see straight. He felt the way her walls fluttered and clenched his length and he closed his eyes tightly. Gods above he could die happy like this.

 

But he'd have to save that for another time.

 

Shaking his head, Cullen grit his teeth as a low growl slipped through his lips. He slid his calloused hands along the expanse of her back, his sun kissed skin across her honeyed brown. His fingers found purchase in her slick locks and yanked, forcing her pliant body to sit up into his chest. The new angle had him filling her even deeper, his breath right in her ear. The hand that wasn't in her hair settled on her hip, his fingers digging deeper, leaving bruises.

 

That is, until that same hand then proceeded to slide lower across her skin, down to the apex of her thighs and his fingers traced that bundle of nerves that made her freeze in place. But he didn't stop. His fingers trailed lower, until she felt him pull her lips apart, his fingers kneading the sensitive flesh. His fingers caressing her opening along with him filling her up had Zamurrad gasping out, her voice rising higher in the dead of night.

 

“As much as I love feeling you ride me, you’re not getting off that easily, _my lady_.” His voice flowed through her ears like sweet music and she groaned. Licking the shell of her ear, Cullen chuckled at her reaction as he settled back into his disrupted rhythm.

 

Oh, sweet Maker. She wasn't going to make it.

 

"Let me hear you. Let me hear your screams." He whispered again, and Zamurrad felt her walls clench tightly at the sound of his voice.

 

Oh no.

 

Oh no no _no_.

 

She hated how his voice held an undertone of pure lust, the slight quiver of a growl embedded in his words. She didn't trust her own voice to be as composed anymore, so she simply shut her eyes and shook her head. Her curls grazed his cheeks like smoke, the smell of some foreign fruit assaulting his nose. Gods above, he could get lost in that smell.

 

"No biting words, lass? Surely you haven't lost that tongue of yours?"

 

As if to torment her further, Cullen dragged the hand placed between her legs slowly up the front of her body, their combined slick dripping from his fingers.

 

"How wet you are for me, _my lady_. Let me see if I can coax that sly tongue out of you. Open."

 

She felt his fingers tracing the outline of her lips and kept her mouth closed, turning her head away. But the fingers in her hair pulled, and as she gasped in pain--surprise, really, she'd endured worse--his fingers shot in, dragging their juices across her tongue.

 

Oh, sweet Andraste, they tasted amazing.

 

Her moan reverberated across his fingers and he let out a full laugh now. Dragging his fingers from across her tongue, he settled his grip right over her throat, his thumb gently stroking the underside of her chin.

 

"That's right, my lady. Let me hear you."

 

Andraste guide her, she couldn't even stay angry when he whispered like that in her ear.

 

His hips sped up, the sting of their skin slapping together causing such a delicious burn she squirmed in his lap. She let out a choked cry, the pleasure becoming too great. She wouldn't last much longer.

 

Damn him. Damn him and the wicked sway of his hips to the Void.

 

"Louder. I want them all to hear you scream my name."

 

Zamurrad couldn't stop herself. The flutter in her belly had grew and grew and with him hitting just the _right_ spot with just enough force she came undone. Screaming, she arched her back and her limbs shook uncontrollably. Her inner walls fluttered around him, gripping him like the sheath to a sword. Cullen continued to push her through her orgasm, his own barely being kept at bay.

 

Limply, she slacked against his body while another orgasm tore through her, the sensation too powerful for her to move against it. He submitted to the force of his own undoing, a roar piercing through the tent and into the night sky. As his hips slowed, she whimpered pitifully from the overstimulation, a much smaller tremor coursing through her body.

 

Damn him. Damn him to the Void.

 

His grip on her slacked, and she fell unceremoniously onto the rough furs of the bed. Her face burned with the itch of his bedding, The furs scratching and prickling the sensitive skin of her breasts. The evidence of their union was dripping down her thighs and onto the furs, the heavy musk of a very thorough _fuck_ present in the air. Landing just as ungracefully as she onto the bed next to her he breathed heavily trying to calm his lungs.

 

"I absolutely _loathe_ you." She muttered weakly, her hand rising and slapping the closest patch of skin she could reach. What actually happened was that the tips of her fingers barely grazed the skin of his stomach, and he laughed. His arms, corded muscle bathed in skin pale like her _abuelo_ wrapped around her middle and pulled her flush against him. Her backside settled in the juncture of his hips, the stark contrast of their bodies glowing under the fire of the hearth.

 

"Aye, lass, and I you."

 

His breath tickled over her ear, a shiver raising the hairs upon her arms. His devilish tongue traced the outer shell of her ear, and she couldn't keep her moan at bay.

 

"Stop _doing_ things like that." Zamurrad whined, turning over to face him. The glare she tried to emulate didn't reach her eyes. Instead, she simply looked terrified.

 

Her _abuelita_ always told her she had eyes like a mirror.

 

"And what is it that I'm doing, my lady?" His fingers drew lazy patterns on the expanse of her stomach, his warm breath now tickling her nose. That wretched grin of his pulled at the scar upon his lip, making him look absolutely _delightful._

 

Maker's ass she wasn't supposed to fall for him _._

 

Her voice hitched in her throat, and she closed her eyes.

 

"You're making me loathe you _less_."

 

Opening her bright brown eyes, she saw his face no longer held that smug smirk. He looked.... well, just as terrified as she.

 

The hand that held her retreated, and he rubbed his neck nervously. His amber eyes couldn't meet her own, and he sighed. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his disheveled head of golden brown hair and went right back to rubbing that spot on his neck, a nervous tick she discovered within a week of their meeting.

 

Wait, did she make him nervous?

 

"Is it easier? To pretend there's nothing between us?"

 

"All I know is I'm muddling the lines between whatever this began as and how I'm feeling now." Her voice came out so small; she hated how nervous he was making her.

 

"How do you feel then?" He asked expectantly, his body shifting to look her in the eyes.

 

"I am grateful that you saved my life when I washed ashore. You could have left me but you didn't. I am grateful that your people welcome me as one of their own. But--" She watched as his face dropped slightly, worry over her next choice of words.

"--you are insufferable, what with how loudly you _snore_! And you always wish to tickle me when you are losing an argument; that is not how a leader should settle differences. You are insatiable. I have never wanted for sleep until I agreed to join you in your tent. Also you have utterly _ruined_ my hair!"

 

His deep laugh echoed around them as he fell back beside her, and his smile lit up the dark shadows in his eyes.

 

Maker help her he was like the sun.

 

“Well, _you_ let out these moans when you sleep, and it wakes me up at all hours of the night. I do believe you goad me into these arguments you seem to despise so much. And you never seemed to be bothered by your lack of sleep before.” He shot back, the laughter still in his voice. Reaching out, his fingers took hold of a lock of her hair, the curls of black flowing through his fingers.

“Your hair looks absolutely beautiful as it is.”

 

“Yes, but you don't actually have to try and tame it.” Zamurrad playfully chastised, a smile on her lips. She began to turn away from him and attempt to rest, but the fingers in her hair gripped her chin and turned her back towards him.

 

“So, my lady. Have I managed to answer your question?”

 

Zamurrad looked confused as his hands pulled her leg over his hip, rolling her on top of him.

 

“And which question would that be, my thane?”

 

Slowly, he guided his now hardened length back inside her warm heat, and Zamurrad closed her eyes briefly.

 

“You tell me, lass.”

 

“Cullen, this isn't _fair_.” She whined, his hips giving shallow thrusts, and she squirmed atop him. Her hands gripped his chest, her fingers finding purchase in his muscled torso.

 

“You asked if I would care should you leave. Since my words didn't seem to ease your fears, let me continue to show you.”

 

Zamurrad closed her eyes and let out a ragged breath, that flutter in her belly starting up again.

 

She had a feeling this was going to take all night. And she didn’t mind in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> So I just wanted to post this because it had been sitting in my google docs for like... ever, and I figured what the hell. Also I like Avvar Cullen so yeah. That's it. 
> 
> Until next time. 


End file.
